You may have seen him recently as you drove by our house. He was the silver-haired guy dangling perilously from an aluminum ladder while stringing Christmas lights along the steep rooflines of our Cape. He even used lights to outline the little cupola at the top of the shed. I shudder to think what would have happened if he had fallen from that height!

He’s not James Bond or a trained circus performer related to the Flying Wallendas. He’s just a mere mortal putting up Christmas decorations to make our kids happy. It’s dangerous and demanding work for a guy who turned 60 this year and had a total knee replacement in May.

And that’s not all. He had ankle surgery a couple of years ago and doesn’t have much feeling in one of his feet. That’s quite a handicap when he’s on a ladder and can’t feel the rung as he climbs.

But, he’s a saint and doesn’t like to disappoint our kids. Our two oldest daughters are grown up with homes and decorations of their own. But we still have five kids at home: Jack, 21; Jennifer, 18; Jake, 17; Jeff, 13; and Jarid, 12. They are siblings we adopted nearly five years ago. They are the reason we are still pushing our physical limits — hanging off ladders, trudging up to the attic to retrieve box after box of our worn and tacky Christmas decorations and spending hours with staple guns, Super Glue and thumbtacks putting it all together.

A whole set of lights blew out last week — a calamity that sent Dan running to Wal-Mart for replacements. While he was there, he ran into an old friend he’d grown up with. The friend, who is the same age as Dan, said he and his wife were going to Mexico for Christmas. They were finally empty nesters and for the first time in their lives, they would fly away for the holidays and loll in the sunshine.

“Yah, it does,” I agreed. Visions of palm trees, white sandy beaches and fruity tropical drinks floated through my brain. At that moment, it sounded so much better than aluminum ladders, strings of lights and staple guns. We are both so weary from all the extra work surrounding the holidays. But, I knew Christmas in a tropical paradise wasn’t for us, at least not yet.

We are still trying to create some Christmas memories here. Our children suffered much trauma and loss in their lives and the holidays are a difficult time. We don’t know if the Christmas lights Dan strings will somehow hold them together. Perhaps not, but we hope that some day, when they are older, they will have something beautiful to remember.

The crazy thing about childhood trauma is it can wipe out memories, so we are trying to build new ones — happy visions of twinkling lights and decorations that return year after year.

Without the kids, I might have long since given up dragging the boxes of decorations from the attic. But it makes me happy when Jarid recognizes all of the nutcrackers on display in our living room. I line them up — like a platoon of soldiers — on a long wooden bench sitting beneath our wall-mounted television.

Our mantel is a vision of white lights, ornaments and garland and more nutcrackers standing guard over the wood stove below.

Jarid’s favorite soldier is the tackiest decoration of all, a plastic, battery operated animated man in a red uniform who “plays” Christmas carols on his golden bugle, which he raises to his lips before each new song. Jarid may not remember much of his past, but he remembers the soldier. And that means everything to Dan and me.

We are so glad for our friend who will spend Christmas in Mexico. May he and his wife enjoy tropical breezes and fruity beverages.

But we have chosen a different path. It’s a hard road sometimes, and may never lead South of the Border.

That’s OK with me. I have a battery-operated bugle boy who plays Christmas songs and Jarid remembers him every year.

Wishing you all Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Mary Pat Rowland is managing editor of Foster’s Daily Democrat and can be reached at mprowland@fosters.com.